Cheating Fate
by isabella.sakura
Summary: Inspired by Twilight....When Lucy lays eyes on Jason Holland for the first time, she is shocked by her intense reaction to him. Now, as Lucy is trying to forget him, is he willing to change his way of life just to save her?


1

1

"So," Mr. Vardner said loudly. The classroom quickly quieted, and the few stragglers still standing hurried to take their seats. "Everyone, this is Jason. He just moved here from out of state, so make him feel welcome."

Everyone received this news with one of three expressions on their faces: boredom, (one more student in a school of thousands, big deal); incredulity that a teacher actually introduced the shy boy now standing in front of the class; or open-mouthed awe. The last expression belonged to me.

Jason Holland, the newest student to join the Windson High community, was _gorgeous_.

He didn't wave or smile as the class gave its half-hearted greetings, and he quickly went to take his seat in the back of the row next to mine. All eyes followed him as he walked down the aisle, his head down, and stored his battered textbooks in the rack under the chair.

Mr. Vardner cleared his throat. "Let's get started. For today's lesson, we will be focusing on…"

Fortunately for me, Mr. Vardner's mediocre English class required little attention, and the classroom was soon filled with many whispered conversations. I angled myself in my seat so that it wouldn't be too obvious if I looked toward the back of the room, and stole a glance at Jason. He was leaned back against his chair, tapping his pencil nonchalantly on the desktop, the picture of ease. But his eyes were tense.

He must be nervous, I thought sympathetically. I turned back to the teacher and waited impatiently for the class to end. I was going to talk to him, I decided. I'll make him feel welcome, as Mr. Vardner asked. I was suddenly filled with this unknown energy; I felt as if I could do anything, and as if I had all the luck of the world on my side. I went over in my head what I would say to him—where did you come from, how do you like it here so far, do you feel as lost as I did on my first day—telling myself that my intentions were noble. I knew in the back of my mind, though, that my uncharacteristically outgoing behavior was just a plan to get a better look at his face.

An hour later, the bell finally rang. I jumped up and began gathering my books in my arms, and cast my eyes about for Jason. My excitement quickly turned to disappoint-ment when I didn't see him at his desk or, upon further searching, in the room at all.

"Darn it," I muttered under my breath, and I swept from the room.

I fought my way through the crowded halls, keeping my eyes open for the dark-haired newcomer. Maybe I'll have another class with him. With this thought in mind, I quickened my pace and arrived to my next class with five minutes to spare.

The room was mostly empty at the moment; only people who had hurried like I had or those assiduous students who wanted a few minutes to prepare for class were in their seats. I took my usual seat and waited restlessly for him to arrive.

The first bell rang.

My eyes never left the door as girl after boy hurried into the room.

A minute later, the second bell rang. I watched eagerly as a couple of students rushed in to avoid being late.

Then the class started, and my hopes were growing dimmer. Five minutes later, I couldn't help the little bubble of hope that bloomed in my chest when the door burst open; maybe he had gotten lost and was running late. This was a large school, after all. Those hopes were diminished when I saw that it was only a freshman with a message for the teacher. I glared childishly as she walked by my desk, and she looked at me in alarm and strode quickly from the room.

As the lesson wore on, I began to lose my gallantry. Reality slowly but surely took its place. Had I really been planning to talk to him? I was generally a shy girl, always had been. I had never been one brave enough to strike up conversations like that, and as I thought about my abnormal behavior of the morning, I was shocked and a little embarrassed. It wasn't like me at all to feel so…_audacious_ like I had. The more I pondered on this, the more bewildered I felt. This morning, without even realizing it, I had turned from my shy, normal self to this outgoing, sociable girl; or, at least, I had formed the plans of that other girl.

And Jason Holland…he was just another addition to the thousands of students at Windson High. I had no plausible reason for reacting to him the way I did. As he'd stood in front of the classroom, I'd not gotten a good look at his face. His head had remained down with his eyes on the floor, so I didn't even have the excuse of being impelled by his good looks to justify my behavior.

_But the rest of him I _did_ see_, I argued with myself. And it had looked very nice_. _

Or maybe it wasn't his looks at all that had had me so eager to talk to him. Maybe, somewhere in my subconscious, I'd really just wanted to make him feel more comfortable here. I'd been a new student to Windson as well, and I knew what it was like. Maybe I had wanted to condole his nerves, to help him.

I was so caught up in my attempt to reason with myself that I didn't notice the class had ended until my teacher, a kind, middle-aged woman, gently tapped my shoulder. I quickly snapped from my thoughts and looked around, a little thrown off.

"Class is over, hon. I think it's time for your lunch," she said a little condescendingly.

Embarrassed, I stood up and gathered my books. I mumbled my thanks and a quick apology before I sped out.

The cafeteria was crowded as usual, and I tried futilely to stop my eyes from seeking out Jason Holland as I purchased my lunch. I sighed when I did not see him, and joined my friends at our usual table, dejected. I was definitely not as eager to meet him as I was before now that I had returned to my normal self, and I wasn't even sure if I wanted to talk to him at all anymore. But having my hopes shot down repeatedly was starting to annoy me, and it was just plain exhausting.

"What are your plans for this weekend, Lucy?"

I turned and gave a small smile to Casey Ameck, who had been my friend since the first day I started at this school.

"I don't know yet… I guess I don't have any plans. It's supposed to be nice out, so I probably won't stay inside." I replied.

She tossed her dark waves behind her shoulder and flattened her hands on the table, a sure sign that she had a story to tell me. "Well," she began, "You will never believe who asked me to go out this weekend." She waited expectantly.

I asked her who in a false, excited voice, and she immediately began to dish out the news. I kept my face bright, wanting her to keep talking. I was glad for the distraction.

Lunch ended, and my three other classes flew by. My eagerness at the prospect of _him _having another class with me thankfully didn't resurface, but I was still glum as I walked through the emptying parking lot to my car.

On the ten-minute drive home, my mind was working hard, trying to dispel any thought of Jason Holland. I knew now that my reaction this morning was not only inexplicable, but also, I told myself with a wry laugh, completely ridiculous. By the time I arrived at my small suburban home, I had decided to forget today completely. It had been an odd day to say the least, and there was no point in agonizing over it any longer.

It took a little longer than I'd hoped for my thoughts to be clean of him, but when I climbed into bed that night, my mind was filled only with visions of the stress-free weekend ahead.

I woke at the sound of my alarm, which was the third movement of Haydn's eighth symphony downloaded onto my cell phone. I loved classical music, and as I listened to the cheerful melody fill my room, I stretched my body out until my fingers and toes separated. Then I relaxed and sighed. I was well rested and, I realized while getting dressed, in a great mood.

I was humming the familiar tune of my alarm as I skipped down the hall to our small kitchen, where my mother was drinking coffee over the morning paper. The strong, aromatic smell filled the small room, and I gladly poured myself a cup.

"What's on the agenda for today?" my mom asked in her sweet voice.

"Umm…test in pre-cal," I counted three spoonfuls of sugar into my coffee as I spoke, "and Casey wants me to help her study for _her _test after school…"

I trailed off, waiting for a response.

My mother didn't look up from her paper as she replied, "That's fine."

I smiled. A good start to what I hoped would be a good day. I drained my coffee in record time, and went to the small bathroom connected to my bedroom. I pulled my thick, wavy hair into a low ponytail, brushed my teeth, and was on my way.

I spotted Casey at her locker, struggling to balance each book she pulled out. I walked up beside her and grabbed a few books that were about to topple to the floor, relieving her of her load.

"Thanks," she muttered. "So, are we on for tonight?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Mom said it was fine, as long as I'm not home too late." We started walking through the masses of the crowded halls until we arrived at the stairs, where we usually went our separate ways.

"Right," Casey said sarcastically. "Like I want to spend _that_ much time studying." She made a face.

I laughed, already making my way up the stairs. "See you at lunch!" I called over my shoulder.

I entered the hallway and began walking at a leisurely pace. I still had a few minutes before the bell would ring to signal the start of another day. I had almost reached my destination when I felt the first twinge of unease. My steps slowed.

The nerves finally started to kick in when I reached the door of the classroom, my books balanced in the crook of my arm; faint at first, then all but incapacitating. I suddenly wished I were back in bed. I lingered for a few minutes outside the door, pretending to straighten my books whenever someone glanced at me.

The first bell rang. I had a minute left to mentally prepare myself for whatever emotions were waiting to ambush me.

I was almost waiting for the moment when the mind of that _other_ girl would take over, almost waiting for that strange new energy to fill me. My mind was torn between anxiety and want. Anxiety because, if I _did_ get up the nerve to speak to him, what if I suddenly switched back to my normal, stuttering self as soon as I opened my mouth? I would babble like an idiot, and that's exactly what he would view me as. First impressions are everything, after all. And wanting, well, for obvious reasons; I wanted to see if his voice sounded as good in reality as it did in my head.

My god, I thought with frustration, I was becoming insane!

My eyes became wide with apprehension as I watched Jason Holland, looking stunning in a forest green shirt that coincided perfectly with his dark hair, stroll into his first period.

_My _first period! I thought frantically.

The final bell sounded throughout the halls, and I forced my feet to unfreeze. I trudged into the room, avoiding eyes and keeping my head down. Everyone else was already seated. My mind was unfocused, and Mr. Vardner's voice was merely a faint droning in the background.

I sat down slowly in my desk. I stored everything but a notebook under my chair, and centered the notebook in front of me. I took out my pencil and placed it carefully in the holder of the desk. I folded my hands in my lap and glued my eyes to the board, but I couldn't truthfully say what was written there.

I was pathetically trying to stop myself from looking back at _him_.

The minutes passed slowly, and I grew very uncomfortable in my rigid stance. I gradually made myself relax, leaning back in my chair and stretching my legs out in front of me. I was still very aware of him sitting just feet behind me, and I tried without success to keep that thought from my mind. Whenever it did intrude, I had to force myself to breathe.

_Relax_, I told myself repeatedly.

After a while, a new feeling of awareness began to seep through me, a tingling that started in my back and flowed upward, making the hairs on my neck stand up. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, my muscles suddenly clenched.

The feeling was the same sensation you get when someone is staring at you, when you can practically feel their eyes on your back.

My hand absentmindedly rubbed the back of my neck, and I turned my attention to the teacher and tried to focus on the lesson. I had no idea what it was even about.

A few minutes later, and the feeling of being watched didn't slacken. I was becoming annoyed; no one had any business staring at me like this.

Shifting my hair around my face to remain inconspicuous, I very slightly tilted my head towards the rear of the room. I was prepared to show whoever was staring at me just how I felt, my expression angry. My eyes roamed over the faces of my classmates, but no one was returning my glance.

Until my eyes reached _him_.

Jason Holland was staring at me, his gaze intense, his eyes narrowed with a frustrated curiosity under his furrowed brow.

I very quickly tore my gaze away, the color rising in my cheeks. The weight of the emotions behind his stare was startling.

Why was he staring at me like that?

I glanced down to inspect my appearance; light gray tank top, blue jeans, black shoes. My outfit seemed innocent enough. My left hand flew up to my ponytail, patting it here and there; there wasn't a strand out of place. I slumped in my seat, thoroughly confused.

I couldn't think of an explanation for why he was looking at me with such chagrin, like I had disappointed him in some way, like he was unsatisfied. We hadn't even talked in the two days he'd been at this school, so there couldn't be some deeper meaning behind his hostile behavior…could there?

I held myself up through the rest of class, my teeth clenched in indignation. The force of his stare never wavered from my back.


End file.
